


Insult To Injury

by RebelAbsolution



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon), The SpongeBob Musical - Various/Anthony & Coulton/Jarrow
Genre: F/M, Gen, Panic Attacks, Plankton starts spiraling a lil, Spot is here :), Swearing, What if I gave the funny little green bug man Loves and Appreciates His Wife Disease?, and despite the nouns hes technically a dog in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelAbsolution/pseuds/RebelAbsolution
Summary: I just wanted to make the punchline of Plankton getting called old and it snowballed a bit
Relationships: Karen/Sheldon J. Plankton, Sheldon J. Plankton & SpongeBob SquarePants
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Insult To Injury

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in over 5 years please be gentle  
> This also has a lot of tiny headcanons and is a bit further ahead in the timeline of things

"Incoming."

"Whu-"

"Good morning Plankton! Good morning Karen!" Spongebob burst into the Chum Bucket with a cheery cry. This however caused Plankton to just about jump out of his chair, his spoon flung across the room as a byproduct. _Spoon :(_ was the only sad little thought to cross his mind in the moment. He vaguely noted a cold hand patting his shoulder and his wife's voice echoing the sponge's greeting as he groaned and heaved himself to his feet. Spongebob of course seemed unaware of the damage caused.

"We're gonna host a senior friendly yoga class on Sundays from now on and I thought maybe you'd like to come!"

Plankton's eye twitched _'Senior'? Senior??_ He made an over exaggerated show of pointing at the pet bed in the corner, loose unbraided hair swinging wildly, and screamed, "Spot, KILL!"

The amoeba in question did little more than raise his head and yawn lazily.

"He'll come." Karen stated flatly, in stark contrast to the wide smirk on her face. Her husband turned stiffly towards her.

"Traitors! The lot of you! May a plague lay waste on your lands! May your blasphemous tongues crawl out of your lying mouths and strangle you! And may a POX fall upon your fucking house!"

"You mean your house?"

"MY _fucking_ house." His voice lowered to a hiss dramatically. 

Spongebob watched patiently from his spot in the doorway, though he did cringe a bit at the crass language. At this point he knew better to let Karen convince Plankton to accidently convince _himself_ than try to convince him directly. Mr. Krabs could do that too, but it's usually much louder.

Karen gave an equally dramatic sigh of her own, "Don't act as if you don't bitch every single morning, and night, about how much your body hurts. Yoga will be good for you, though there's only so much it can do when you sleep like you're trying to play twister with your own limbs. And literally crawl around in the crawlspace when you get 'bored'."

The copepod's face grew red but he already knew this battle was a lost cause. He banged his hand against the table a few times(and immediately regretted it, _ow_ ) in frustration.

"Fine, fine! I may need yoga but I am NOT a senior. Not for another 8 goddamn years! The legal threshold is 65, I CHECKED!" This time he pointed accusingly at Spongebob and his voice _definitely_ didn't crack at the last word. The sponge in question raised his hands up in appeasement.

"Of course! Gosh, I'd never imply YOU were a senior, Plankton! Consider it more a class for people over er, thirty! Mature adults, heavy with the burdens of the wisdom they've gathered over the years! Only the uh, smartest students will uh, be allowed.. to... attend..?" He finished lamely with a shrug and sheepish smile.

"...I really wish I could hate you." _And that you were a better liar..._

"So you'll come?" 

"Just goddamn give me the shitting flyer for the FU-" The young frycook interrupted his rapidly booming sentence with a tight speedy hug causing anymore of the 7 bad words (or even 13, goodness!) to choke in his throat and be replaced by something more akin to a plastic bag being popped. Spongebob quickly jumped back to safety with his arms once again raised as the older(NOT senior) man made a catlike attempt to swat at him. “And if I see a single one of those geezers from the retirement home there I’m turning my ass right back out the door.”

_Of course the little shit's beaming ear to ear about it. Stupid kid._ Plankton thought to himself with not _nearly_ enough vitriol to his frustration. His wife watched on from the other end of their kitchen with barely contained amusement. 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll have a great time!" Spongebob announced happily, and definitely louder than necessary. Instead of turning to leave like the copepod had prayed, he simply stood there expectantly with a smarmy look on his face. Catching on, Plankton bared his teeth with a growl.

"Thank you for the invitation, I appreciate the consideration," he hissed out (impressively without once separating his teeth.)

The sponge's smile (somehow) grew even brighter. Plankton figured at this point he was trying to outshine what little sun filtered through the tiny windows of the Chum Bucket before finally, _blessedly,_ turning to leave. 

"And thank _you_ for the politeness, seething with rage as it may be!" He punctuated it with a short laugh, "See ya' Sunday!"

Copepod and computer alike took a moment to breathe out the unexpected and far too early (before noon for Neptune's sake) social interaction. As he turned around to return to his breakfast Plankton caught a mischievous flicker in his _darling_ wife's screen invisible to anyone who hadn't had the last 27 years to study her. His eyes narrowed in mock suspicion knowing full well what she was about to do.

"So," _oh_ , _and there's the little head tilt, and good_ _lord_ _, there's the smile, "_ mature, huh?" She finished with so much genuine mirth he could feel his heart skip a beat, with love or defensive embarrassment he could never tell. 

That made him feel younger than any _yoga_ class ever would, he thought. The stubborn jolt of pain that travelled all the way from his right heel, up his hip and back, all the way to his shoulder with every step unceremoniously reminded him otherwise. 

_Mm, bah, yoga or something really wouldn't_ hurt _to try. Or, it would- will- very much. But it'd be better than just lying back and allowing the aches to get worse. But… there will be_ people _there…_ In his runaway musings he had managed to successfully sit back down at the table without realizing. His body let his head fall violently to the table as his brain realized that, narrowly missing the [breakfast] and eliciting a small groan from both the impact and it being too damn early to be thinking. _Christ, Eugene's almost definitely going to be there. And wearing yoga pants… Oh dear God, I don't even own yoga pants. What the fuck else do you need to do yoga? A mat? A hair tie? Don't you need to put your hair up in a bun for this shit? Do I even have a hair tie strong enough to hold over 10 pounds of hair in a bun? Where- Oh. There's the headache._

The rest of his thoughts turned into an overwhelming roar of static that made his vision swim (granted he was only staring at the inside of his own eyelid) and tightened the muscles in his shoulders and the back of his throat in a way that only yelling for the sake of getting noise out had ever been able to cure. He took a deep breath in intending to do just that-

A cold but gentle touch to the back of his head was enough to stop his spiralling for just a moment long enough for the breath he had taken to be shakily pushed out, releasing at least a bit of the tension in his body with it. The reassuring hand on the back of his head travelled through his loose hair and brushed some of it aside where it settled between his shoulder blades instead. The simple act of following its path was enough to distract his brain and crash and burn his prior train of thought right into a wall, metaphorically speaking. The copepod took another deep breath and this time used it to give him the will to lift his head. _Yep, that's gonna turn into a migraine_ , he huffed internally. 

_Now, what were we doing? Oh, right, my wife was ever so gently roasting me._

Plankton looked up at her and sighed, "Honey, you know I love you very much and you know I always want your support-" a small smile matching hers spread across his scarred features, "but if you try coming to this, I WILL file for divorce."

There was no _real_ ire to the words, spurring Karen to gently grab Plankton's chin and tilt his head all the way back to look at her- _sweet merciful Neptune-_ and practically purr in response, "Aw, that's not very nice, dear. There's no need to be so dramatic!" Her small smile twisted into a smirk, "what could I possibly do if I came along other than support you?"

Plankton laughed "Woman, you and I both know you'd tape the whole thing and I REFUSE for there to be photographic evidence of this!" 

She laughed in return before leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"You're right." As she pulled away slightly, Plankton could perfectly hear the soothing whirr of her machinery pick up, see the lines on her screen refreshing faster than average, she gave one last pure real laugh.

"Whatever it takes to keep you from being 57-going-on-90, charming," she dove back in for a much deeper kiss but the copepod could feel her still smirking against him and he couldn't help but join.

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't get here from Tumblr, please look at this Bonus Art that goes with this :) 


End file.
